


New Girl meets the Court of Dreams

by thesurielships



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: College AU, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Inner Circle shenanigans, New Girl au, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24772672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesurielships/pseuds/thesurielships
Summary: Feyre moves in with the bat boys.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 21
Kudos: 67





	1. New Girl meets Velaris

Rhysand had never thought he’d see the day Feyre Archeron rode with him in his car.

That’s right.

Feyre, as in Feyre Cursebreaker Archeron, as in the girl he’d been pining over for years, was now sitting in his car, looking out the window, her nervousness apparent in her restless hands and the bottom lip she’d been chewing on for the past half hour.

He had been utterly shocked when she had run up to him earlier, panting and breathless, and asked him for a ride. At first he thought she’d meant another kind of ride, one he was totally willing to give her ten times a day, seven days a week. He somehow managed not to make a complete fool of himself, and here they were.

He didn’t realize he was staring at her until he veered off his lane and a car honked angrily. Snap out of it, he thought. She can totally tell you like her.

But Feyre only had one thing on her mind, and it wasn’t the gorgeous guy sitting next to her. No, she was thinking of how she would get her clothes back from her now ex Tamlin’s house. She had fled the house the previous night after a particularly ugly fight with the controlling asshole, and had only texted him: “I left. Thank you for helping me when I needed you. Please don’t come looking for me. I am not coming back.”

Now she had no clothes, no home, and most importantly, no phone charger.

She slumped in her seat, sighing.

“Tonight is the winter solstice.” Rhys said, quietly.

Feyre smiled wryly. “Longest night of the year.”

“The stars shine their brightest tonight.”

She looked at him then, his profile flickering in the light of the passing streetlights. He glanced at her, and when his eyes met hers, her breath caught.

Your eyes shine brighter than the stars, she wanted to say. She blushed, and looked away.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For the ride.”

He chuckled. “You’ve thanked me three times already.”

“Still-“

“But,” he interrupted, smirking. “If you still feel bad, you can always thank me in other ways, Feyre darling.”

She scowled. “In your dreams, prick.”

“You do seem to make quite a regular appearance in those.”

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat. Dangerous territory, she chided herself. It was soon, way too soon after Tamlin. It had only been a day, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from retorting: “As you seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Am I supposed to deny,” he drawled, eyes sparkling, “that I find you attractive?”

“You’ve never said it.”

He sighed. “I’ve never had a chance to. Aren’t you dating that flower boy?”

She snorted at the ridiculous nickname. Steroid Tamlin was anything but a flower boy. “Not anymore.”

Rhys’s eyebrows rose. “Should I be sorry?”

Feyre slumped again in her seat, dejected. “Don’t. I’d rather be homeless than live with that controlling asshole.”

“Wait,” Rhys said, eyes wide, and she savored how the light reflected in them. “You’re homeless?”

“Temporarily, I hope. But yes, I suppose I am.”

“Then where am I taking you?”

“A cybercafé. Open 24/7. Should work for tonight.”

He made an abrupt U-turn, eliciting a cacophony of honks all around them. She yelped. “Where are you going?”

“As it happens, one of my roommates just moved out last week. We still haven’t found a suitable replacement.”

Feyre’s heart started beating loudly. “Oh no, Rhysand, I don’t want to abuse of your kindness…”

“This is not charity, Feyre darling. My roommates and I have a screening process to judge potential rommates. You’ll have to go through that first.”

She opened her mouth to argue but was stopped short by an explosion of light in the corner of her eye.

A shooting star.

“A wish for a wish?” Rhysand’s voice was soft, tentative.

“I’m fairly sure that’s not how wishes work, Rhysand. Doesn’t telling a wish ruin it?”

“Only you can decide what gets in the way of your dreams, Feyre darling.”

“Poetic, but no.”

“Fine,” he sighed, aggravated. “I’ll go first.” He paused long enough for her to see his eyes go soft and his smile grow wistful. She waited for what he would say with such trepidation that she was caught completely off guard by the absurdity of his wish.

“I wish you’d stop calling me Rhysand.”

She huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Isn’t that your name?”

“My friends call me Rhys.” He crinkled his nose. Adorable. _No._

She tapped her chin. “I’ll consider it, if you stop calling me darling, you shameless flirt.”

He smirked. “No way, Feyre darling.”

If she was honest with herself, she rather liked the endearment, so she let him off easy, looking out the window to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“You still owe me a wish.”

She looked back at him then, and drank in the sight of his profile shining ethereal in the starlight, his eyes a deep, sensuous violet that was rapidly turning into her favorite color.

“I want to paint you,” she finally said, barely more than a whisper, afraid to break the moment.

To her surprise, he did not smirk, and he did not preen. Instead, he graced her with the most beautiful smile she had ever seen, his eyes shining so bright she could’ve sworn they had stolen all the stars in the sky.

“Stars eternal,” she whispered, still entranced. Her heart was beating a tattoo in her chest, and she longed to run a hand along his sharp jawline, brush a finger against his lips…

“I love it when you look at me like that.”

She blinked, blushing furiously.

“Like… like what?” she stuttered.

“Like I’m the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.”

She scowled, her cheeks ablaze. “You arrogant prick.”

He pulled over then, parking perfectly in the midst of the busy street.

She frowned. “Are we there already?” She looked at her surroundings. They were in the middle of the financial district of Manhattan, and all she could see in every direction were office buildings.

He shook his head, and motioned for her to stay still. He got out of the car, went over to her side, and opened her door with a flourish.

“After you, my lady.”

She shook her head, laughing. Rhysand was already hearing wedding bells. He knew she had just broken up with Flower Boy, and he probably shouldn’t rush her, but when she smiled at him like that, he just couldn’t help himself.

He bowed and offered her his arm, and she put her hand in the crook of his elbow, laughing at his goofiness. He guided her through throngs of people, to his favorite restaurant in town. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of affaire, and he had stumbled upon it one drunken night with his inner circle, only to find the best food he had ever tasted. They even had it on speed dial back at their flat.

“Velaris,” Feyre whispered in wonder.

They went inside, and everybody seemed to know Rhysand. He was greeted by every single one of the staff, and the chef came personally to take their order. Feyre was taken aback. She wasn’t used to seeing the outgoing, friendly side of Rhys. He was mostly known as the college bad boy, and he was generally cold and closed off. Tonight, however, the smile never left his face. It was genuine and open and so warm it made her fuzzy inside. She blinked and suddenly realized that Rhys and the chef were both staring at her expectantly.

“Uh,” she fumbled, flipping rapidly through the menu, the options a blur in her eyes. “Surprise me?” she finished weakly.

The chef smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”

Rhysand was tapping a steady beat into the table, trying to hide how nervous he was. Feyre was here, with him, in Velaris, his favorite place in the world. He couldn’t help but marvel at how she fit in just right. She was already a favorite among the staff, he guessed from the three water pitchers, one bottle of wine and numerous plates of appetizers already on the table, if only because they thought she was his date. If only.

“Nice place,” Feyre said, breaking his train of thought just as it took a self-deprecating turn. “Really cozy.”

“Wine?” He asked.

“Sure.”

He poured them each a healthy dose of the amber liquid. She took her glass and clinked it against his. “To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys.”

He smiled, even as his heart broke a little. “To the stars who listen, and the dreams that are answered.”

Their dinner came then, and he watched, utterly fascinated, as she first took a tentative bite of her food, then moaned with delight. Her blue eyes lit up and she looked so blissful that he just knew he would never forget that moment.

Feyre had never had such food before-warm and rich and savory and spicy. She was so enraptured by this life changing experience that she did not notice as Rhys polished off his own plate and went ahead to the counter to pay the tab.

He came back to find her lying contentedly in her seat, a hand on her belly and a sated smile on her face. He wished he was the one to put that smile on her face, having satisfied different cravings.

“Am I going to have to carry you out of here, Feyre darling?”

She blinked drowsily, and her smile turned sheepish.

“I might settle for being rolled out of here. I don’t think you could carry me when I just ate my body weight in the most delicious food I’ve ever had.”

“Is that a challenge?” He ran a predatory stare along her body, leaving tingles in its wake.

She smirked. “Is it?”

Then immediately regretted it as he carried her so fast she almost puked all over his chest.

“Easy!” she yelped, clutching his shoulders.

“You’re looking a little green, Feyre darling.”

“And whose fault is that?”

He chuckled and made his way toward the door.

“Wait. What about the tab?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Rhys.”

“Consider it a welcome dinner to our flat.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I thought I still had to pass through the screening process.”

He clucked his tongue. “Are you always so stubborn, Feyre darling, or is it the palpable sexual tension between us that’s making you testy?”

She rolled her eyes, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. So she resolved to put money in his back pocket later when he wasn’t looking, and instead snuggled deeper into his chest.

On their way home, she finally let sleep claim her. By the time they got to the flat, she was so far gone that she didn’t feel Rhys as he carried her up to his room and tucked her snuggly into his bed, and she didn’t hear the “sweet dreams, Feyre darling” he whispered as he brushed a kiss against her forehead. And sweet were her citrus scented dreams of star-kissed oceans.


	2. New Girl meets the Bat Boys

The next morning, Feyre was roused from the most fulfilling sleep she’d had in months by unfamiliar voices whispering.

“Az, come over here!” a first voice whisper-yelled. “Rhys has been turned into a girl!”

Footsteps came into the room.

“Don’t be stu- oh. I can’t say I mind,” said a second voice, this one a quiet murmur.

Feyre decided to ignore them till they went away, and snuggled deeper into her citrus scented blankets, eager to go back to sleep.

Another pair of footsteps shuffled into the room.

“Cassian, get out of my room.” It was Rhys’s voice. Feyre smiled into the pillow. “Az, you too?” he added in disbelief.

“I must say I liked you better as a sleeping beauty,” replied the quiet voice, which she guessed to be Az.

Obnoxious laughter erupted in the room.

“Cassian,” Rhys hissed.

Feyre sighed, accepting that her sleep was over, and peeked over her blankets.

“Why, Rhys, you’re more uptight than my mother.”

The laughter got even louder, and she glanced at its source. A tall, muscular guy with shoulder length dark hair and mischievous hazel eyes was currently doubled over, slapping his knee. She turned towards the quiet chuckle in the other side of the room. Az, she guessed, looked a lot like Cassian, with the same dark hair and hazel eyes, but where Cassian’s features were strong and his expression open, Az exuded soft elegance and stealth and grace. He was glancing between her and Rhysand, who was looking at her with a half-smile on his lips.

“This is what I get for trying to let you sleep in?”

She snickered and sat up, still unwilling to leave her warm cocoon.

The sight hit Rhys in the gut. He wished he could wake up every day to her in his bed, her golden hair fanned across his pillow and a languorous smile on her face.

“So, was Rhys’s performance so unsatisfactory last night that you kicked him out of bed?” Cassian asked, wiping the tears that had escaped from his eyes.

She smirked. “I didn’t even get to kick him out. _I fell asleep_.”

Rhys’s jaw dropped.

Cassian grinned. “I like you.” He extended his hand. “Cassian.”

“Feyre,” she smiled back, shaking his hand. When she made to let go, he pulled her closer and mock whispered, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “If you’re still… _unsatisfied_ , my room is just next door.” He winked at her before releasing her hand.

Rhys grinded his teeth.

“Hello, Feyre. I’m Azriel.”

“Nice to meet you.” They shook hands.

“Now that introductions are over,” Rhys interrupted before his other brother got a chance to flirt with her, “I think we should start the screening process.”

Cassian and Azriel looked at him then, eyes wide.

“You mean to tell me that our roommate is gonna be a _girl_?” screeched Cassian.

“I know models,” she offered.

Cassian’s expression immediately went from disbelief to excitement. He clapped his hands and all but squealed, “our roommate is gonna be a girl!”

“Easy,” Rhys chuckled. “She still hasn’t passed the interview.”

Cassian looked at her. “Are you going to set us up with those models?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“Then it’s a yes from me.”

Rhys sighed. He opened his mouth to put an end to this mess of a conversation, and to give Feyre a chance to freshen up before she had to deal with the hurricane that was Cassian, but Azriel spoke first.

“Do you know how to make a hangover cure?”

Feyre’s eyebrows rose. “I guess?”

“From a scale of 1 to 10, how messy are you?”

She chewed on her lip, thinking. “4? Except for when I paint, then it’s a solid 8.”

“Is there something specific you don’t like eating?”

“Not really.”

‘Do you shed hair?’

She stifled a laugh. “I’m not a dog, Az.”

Rhys was a little jealous that Azriel got her to call him by his nickname so fast, and without even needing to ask.

“How many hair products do you use?”

“Shampoo and conditioner.”

“How long do you take in the shower?”

“About half an hour.”

Rhys was rapidly getting uncomfortable with the direction this interview was taking.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

She opened her mouth before processing the question. Her cheeks heated, and Rhys grunted. Azriel looked at him, assessing, then smirked triumphantly, and Rhys realized he’d just been tricked.

“Okay. I cook and clean. Rhys takes care of grocery shopping. Cassian fixes things around the house. You can be home decorator. Mother knows this house needs a woman’s touch.” A loud crash sounded somewhere in the apartment, followed by a yelp. “Welcome to our house, Feyre,” Azriel concluded, and then left in a hurry, no doubt to go fix the mess Cassian was making in the kitchen.

Rhys sighed and went to lean against his desk in the edge of the room.

“What do I need to do to get my third yes?”

He smirked at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She chucked a pillow at him, which he caught inches before it hit him in the face. “How about-“ he was interrupted by another one smacking him in the nose. He lowered the pillow, his movements slow and his smile slower. “You wicked thing.”

Feyre barely got a glimpse of his indigo eyes twinkling before she was hit with such force that she fell back on the bed. The prick had thrown both the pillows at once. She grabbed one of them and aimed blindly, but she only heard it thud against the wall, followed by a dark chuckle and retreating footsteps.

“The toilet is two doors down, to the left. Welcome to our home, Feyre darling,” he said by way of goodbye. And though she didn’t quite realize it then, it was the first time she’d felt at home in a long time.

* * *

Rhysand joined his brothers in the kitchen, only to find it all coated by a thick layer of flour, and smudged in places by puddles of raw eggs.

“I wanted to make pancakes for our new roommate,” Cassian pouted.

“So is she going to take Kallias’s room?” Azriel asked, picking up the cracked egg shells from the floor. “Or is she going to share yours?”

Rhys was careful to keep his face blank. “What do you mean?”

“He means,” Cassian smirked, “that you could’ve easily put her in Kallias’s room yesterday, but you put her in _your_ bed instead.”

“I figured she wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in a stranger’s sheets,” he lied smoothly.

“She did seem very comfortable in yours,” put in Azriel.

Rhys felt heat creep up his neck, so he tried to change the subject. “Are you sure you two are okay with her living here?”

He was met by two sets of knowing eyes and teasing smirks, but thankfully they decided to let it drop. For now.

Cassian shrugged. “As long as she pays the rent, I don’t see why not.”

“Are _you_ okay with it?” Azriel, ever the observant one, asked.

“As long as she pays the rent, I don’t see why not,” Rhys repeated with a half-smile.

Approximately half an hour later, the time it took Rhys and Az to clean up the flour and egg explosion, Feyre appeared in the doorway. She had just showered and her hair was still a little damp, but what really got to him was the shirt she was wearing. It was _his_ favorite shirt.

Feyre noticed his gaze and grinned. “I hope you don’t mind.” She passed by him on the way to the sink to get a drink, and he got a whiff of his shampoo. _Gods above, she even smelled like him._

Rhys’s voice was strangled when he said, “make yourself comfortable, Feyre darling.”

Azriel shut the fridge he’d been scouring for food. “ _Someone_ finished all the eggs, so I can’t bake anything for breakfast. Velaris?”

Feyre immediately perked up at the name of her new favorite restaurant. “Velaris makes breakfast?”

Cassian’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been there?”

“Yeah, Rhys and I had dinner there yesterday.”

Cassian was shocked. Never in the long years he’d known Rhys had his brother taken a girl there. It was his sacred place, and he never showed it to strangers. He considered the girl standing in front of him in Rhys’s shirt in a new light. She was pretty, he supposed. And feisty. He was glad he liked her because one look at how Rhys was staring at her like she hung the moon and he knew that if his brother had any say in it, she would be with them for a while.

* * *

Feyre was once again at awe. Velaris not only made the best pasta she’d ever tasted, they somehow also made the best pancakes. She was on her fifth pancake when Rhysand asked her, “so, where are your clothes?”

She coughed. “About that… I don’t really have clothes?”

Silence. She was pinned by three pairs of eyes, and she struggled to swallow her bite of pancake. “I left everything behind at Tamlin’s.”

“By Tamlin, you mean Tamlin Rosefield?” Cassian asked, disbelief coloring his words.

“Won’t you go get them back?” Azriel asked quietly.

She could feel Rhys’s gaze on her face, cool and calculating, as she mumbled something along the lines of _yeah, later,_ and scooped another pancake into her plate, digging into it before they could question her any further. 


	3. New Girl meets Morrigan

“Okay, guys,” Rhys whispered as he soundlessly closed the door. He tiptoed across the room to where his brothers were huddled. “What’s the plan?”

“Pull the plug off the TV?” Azriel suggested, face impassive.

“Throw the blanket out the window?” Cassian asked.

Rhys glared at both of them. “Be serious.”

“I am serious!” Cassian began loudly then continued in a hushed voice as a lion roared outside. “If I hear a baby penguin do whatever sound baby penguins make for one more time, I will literally go insane. I haven’t had sex in all the time she’s been here. Every time I bring a girl over, Feyre starts telling her THE story and they cry together and console each other!”

“How does it feel to have girls choose a weeping mess over you, Cass?”

Cassian punched Azriel’s arm.

Azriel’s smug grin faded quickly as a horde of giraffes bleated in the living room. “But seriously, this cannot go on. It’s been three weeks of crying and eating ice-cream and general misery. In the movies it only takes a three-minute montage for the girl to get over her heartbreak.”

“How does it feel to only know about girls from movies, Az?”

Azriel punched Cassian’s arm.

“Guys!” Rhys interrupted before they could get into it. “So, any ideas?”

“You talk to her,” Azriel grumbled. “You’re the one who brought her here.”

“Or better yet,” Cassian smiled suggestively, “have sex with her. You don’t move on till you _move oooon_.”

Rhys punched his arm.

“Ouch, man. That hurt.”

Azriel nodded at Rhys appreciatively.

“Rock, paper, scissors for who has to talk to her first?”

* * *

Rhys opened the door, and immediately the grunt of a dozen camels filled the room. He shared a wince with his brothers before stepping into the battlefield.

“Darling roommate, when Az told you to be home decorator, he didn’t mean for you to make the living room wildlife appropriate.”

Feyre glanced up at him, and the sight of her bundled up in a dolphin blanket, tears streaking her face, tugged at his heart.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a small voice. Rhysand’s heart dropped. “It’s just… watching these cute little things growing up and overcoming hardships, being there for each other, really warms my heart.”

She wiped a stray tear off her cheek.

“And watching natural selection at work motivates me to be resilient. That way I can outlive that miserable, awful, piece of shit asshole.” She stabbed her spoon into her ice cream, laughing maniacally.

Rhysand bolted back to the safety of his room.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Mother’s tits, Rhys,” Cassian cursed. “I didn’t know you were such a coward. Watch this.”

He strutted out of the room, all confidence. He prided himself in his player ways, after all. A crying girl was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Feyre.”

Her gaze remained focused on the screen where two pigs were rolling in mud.

“Feyre.”

She stared at him then, her eyes unnaturally big in her pallid face. She tilted her head. “If it isn’t my favorite roommate,” she said with a hair-rising smile. “Is your offer from the other day still standing?”

He swallowed nervously, retreating back a step. “What offer?”

Her grin turned feral. “The one about satisfying my urges. All these animal documentaries are giving me new ideas.”

Her cackling laughter chased Cassian as he turned on his heel and dashed back to headquarters. She was still chuckling when Azriel cleared his throat.

“What, it’s your turn to talk to the deranged roommate now?”

Azriel shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I just wanted to say that I understand. I understand what it’s like to feel your world collapse around you, to realize that you lost the person whom you thought was the sole pillar of the universe. Heartbreak is hard. But there is something you could do.”

She kept eating her ice-cream, eyes glazed over as she watched her documentary. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Get closure.”

She finally looked his way, face uncharacteristically somber after the three week long hysteria. “Closure?”

“Talk to him. Burn his house down. Whatever works for you.”

She gave him a sad smile before turning back to her screen. Azriel was dismissed.

He made his way back to Rhys’s room, a cacophony of sounds dogging his steps, none of them her laughter.

* * *

It had barely been an hour since mother hen and her two chicks had left the house. Feyre let out a deep sigh, reveling in the newfound silence. She had shut off the TV, opting instead to watch the fading light on the ceiling. She was grateful for her roommates’ efforts, she really was. However, she simply was not ready to face what she had lost. Every time she so much as peeked into her soul, she found a yawning chasm that she had no interest in exploring. She was happy to hide in her cocoon of misery and hysteria for a bit longer.

A knock sounded at the door, and Feyre groaned. She left the couch reluctantly, stretching her under exercised muscles and popping her joints. The knocking grew persistent, and Feyre glared at the door.

“Coming!” she shouted as she trudged through the minefield that the carpet had become. It was strewn with ice cream tubs, dirty sweaters - Rhysand’s sweaters, she noted, cringing - tear stained tissues and ripped canvases from her failed attempts to paint.

She finally reached the door, and pulled it open roughly as the visitor began ringing the bell. It was a gorgeous blonde woman, with blood red lips and a body to die for. Her roommate had upped his game, it seemed.

“Cassian’s not here,” she informed her.

“I’m not here for Cassian. At least not in the way you seem to be thinking,” she chuckled. “I didn’t know one of those losers had gotten a girlfriend,” she added, one delicate eyebrow arched as she gave her a once over. “Rhys?”

Feyre blushed, tugging Rhys’s sweater down on her thighs. “Oh, no. I actually live here. I’m their new roommate.”

The stranger’s second eyebrow rose with shock. “Roommate? Mother, I am always the last to know.” She shook her head, unoffended. “I’m Morrigan, by the way. Rhys’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Feyre.”

“Feyre?” she repeated, chocolate eyes twinkling with mischief. “Rhys has told me so much about you.”

Feyre’s smile was wry. “What, did he tell you about me emptying his closet or pathetically crying my ass off in his living room?”

Morrigan laughed. “Neither, don’t worry. Do you mind if I come in?”

Feyre opened the door wider, welcoming her in. “Not at all.”

Morrigan strode in, her flowery perfume a refreshing change from the suffocating smell of the living room. “My, my,” she huffed with a small smile, taking in the mess. “You weren’t lying about the pathetic part.”

Feyre hid her wince with a smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.

“How long has it been since the break up?”

Feyre opened her mouth to ask how she knew, but she just said: “Three weeks.”

Morrigan froze in her inspection of the carpet. “This simply cannot do. Good thing I decided to pass by here. I just happen to need a drinking companion.”

Feyre began to shake her head.

“Tut tut tut,” she shushed her. “I am not taking no for an answer.”

* * *

Rhys and his brothers had been surprised to find the apartment empty when they came back from their run to the supermarket. One look at the living room and they all wordlessly started cleaning before their whirlwind of a roommate came back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

Two hours and a clean house later, Rhys was growing worried. Feyre had spent the last three weeks between classes and their couch, sometimes not even going to the former. For her to just go out with no notice was weird. He was just about to go look for her when the door opened and Feyre stumbled in with his cousin, arms looped around each other and giggling uncontrollably.

“What the ever loving hell?”

“Hello there, cousin.” Mor’s smile was full of mischief. “You didn’t tell me your new roommate was such a cracker.”

Rhys had a bad feeling about this.

“ _Rhyyys_ , you didn’t tell me you had a cousin. And that she’s so wise.”

They started giggling again.

Rhys’ eyebrow rose. “Wise?”

“She told me that all the answers I seeked were in the bottom of a vodka bottle,” Feyre said, her eyes bright with wonder.

Rhys suppressed a smile, even as he was overcome with the need to strangle his cousin. “Did she, now?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Rhys. I was only tending to her wounds, and wounds need alcohol.”

“Is that all you learned in med school?”

“But Rhys,” Feyre interrupted. She was bouncing on her toes. “She was right!”

“I was?”

“I realized that Tamtam is just so overrated.”

Rhys and Mor snorted. “We could’ve told you that.”

“You know what I used to like the most about him? His hair! Such luscious locks, such glittering golden. I even had a tub of paint that Elain got for me that was the exact shade of his hair. I used it to do portraits and stuff. It was all so pretty.” She shook her head. “But look at this!” She grabbed his cousin’s hair with both hands. “Mor’s hair is so much prettier.”

Mor cackled loudly. “You’re welcome to check out the golden below too, if you want.”

She winked at Feyre and Rhys let out an all suffering groan. How were all of his friends flirting with Feyre?

Feyre untangled herself from Mor and tottered towards Rhys. He stopped breathing as her hand moved towards his neck, his face, his hair… his hair?

“Don’t worry, Rhys. Your hair may not be as great as Mor’s, but it’s definitely in my top 10.”

Rhys could only stare at her glowing eyes and her infectious smile as she kept playing with his hair.

“Your eyes are number 1, though.”

“Stars eternal?” he asked wryly.

Feyre gasped. “Are you reading my mind now?”

Rhys’s laugh was low. He could feel himself leaning forward, entranced by the beautiful woman shining for the first time in weeks in front of him.

“Alright,” Mor groaned loudly, and Rhys caught himself staring at Feyre’s lips. “Enough flirting, you two. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“We do?”

Feyre nodded, and Rhys could’ve sworn her voice was slightly breathless as she said: “We’re breaking into Tamtam’s house.”


End file.
